It is important to realise Mark’s state of mind, at the time when this strong, additional trial was to come upon him.

With the full approval of his friend, Canon Nicholls, Mark decided not to take the decree of banishment from London without remonstrance.  He was not astonished at the result of the talk against him.  That his one great enemy should have poisoned the wells so easily was not very surprising.  He could not help knowing that the very keenness and ardour of his friends had produced prejudice against him.  There was, among the religious circles in London, a perhaps healthy suspicion of hero worship for popular preachers, and of any indiscreet zeal.  The great Religious Orders knew how to deal with life, and it was safer to have an enthusiasm for an Order than for an individual.  Seculars were the right people for daily routine and work among the poor, but for a young secular priest to become a bright, particular star was unusual and alarming.

Jealousy is the fault of the best men because it eludes their most vigilant examinations, and, while their energy is taken up with visible enemies, it dresses itself in a complete and dignified disguise and comes out either as discretion or zeal or a love of humility.

Mark saw all this less clearly than did the blind Canon, but he realised it enough not to be surprised at the quick growth of the seed Molly had sown in well-prepared ground.

But the blow he did not expect came from his own rector.  He went to him, thinking he would back him up in his efforts to get an explanation of this sudden order, and he was told, between pinches of snuff, that he had much better do as he was bid without making a fuss, and that he was being sent to an excellent berth, which was exactly what he needed.  The rector was sorry to lose him certainly, but he thought it was the best possible arrangement for himself.  There was something of grunts and sniffs between the short phrases that did not soften them.  Mark became speechless with hurt feeling.

It became clearly evident to Canon Nicholls that the rector and one or two of the older priests who had wind of the matter could not see why there should be any fuss about it.  Young Molyneux was under no cloud; why should he behave as if it were a disgrace to be chaplain to poor old Lord Lofton?  Was he crying out because London would be in such a bad way without him?  What the Canon could not get them to see was the effect on public opinion.  To send Mark away now was to advertise backbiting until it might become a real scandal.  They could not see beyond their own immediate circle; if all the priests knew he was really a good fellow they thought that quite enough.  They had a horror of a man making himself talked of outside, but they had no notion of giving him the chance to right himself with the outside world.  It was much better that he should go away and be forgotten.